Lost In The Echo
by MostWantedAssassin333
Summary: When Connor meets Dabyry Mony, an orphaned Indian he found in a terrible storm, he realizes that the only way for the boy to survive is if he learns the way of the best survival, the way of The Assassin. But when the redcoats start to gain power and the Templars leading their men into the Homestead, Dabyry Mony must use what Connor taught him to survive the streets.Bad summery R


Chapter 1: Fades of Light

It was a howling night, the rain pounding against the streets of Boston. It was thundering like the screech of a banshee, peircing the ears of many who lived in the fine large dominated town. The people were safe from falling over trees collasping on the rooves of their homes, it was a land that one would feel protected in. Very protected, as the redcoats stormed around like the thunder, making sure that everything was like how their noble leader wanted it to be. It was like dreams of the men who so called "served" their country.

Not that far of Boston, in the middle and the eye of the large storm, there was a Indian Village that dwelled there, suffering the head of the storm. Most of the camp was already piling in with falling trees and the ground seemed to rumble beneath them. Their land was in a area that redcoats watched over, Lexington.

In the village, a tiny indian boy was scrambling around in the storm, his feet sliding in the churned mud. His mother, dead by a tree on the roof of their hut, was laying there, the scarlet blood from her mouth drizzling down. He was alone, forever and most likely to see the world fall with him. It was a most miserable night that he had lived so far...

He looked up at some seperated trees, they looked as if they led a trail right up the over the wall. But then, a gush of extreme wind flew him off his feet. As he felt the damp mud upon his back, pain left him cold. The trees he saw the exit from had now filled in, and he was trapped, right at the heart of his camp. With his back straining from the fall, he could maybe climb the trees, right into the top of his leader's hut. Then leap into the water beneath.

After seeing the exit, he crawled forward, and the mud slipped between his fingernails and he felt some blood leak down his chest as he snapped the branch beneath him. After he narrowed himself to the tip of his toes, he leaned against a tipped hut that he found. He looked at the way out, the water spitting his eyes like needles. He found his strength to look up, and he found something sitting at the bay of the trees.

In a dark brown-black outfit with a white hood, a man of tan skin eyed him from the land of the sky. The Indian boy cried out, the man of the outfit staring him in the eye. The Indian shouted something in Indian, as pain sharded him in the rib. The man stood up, the wind and the splintering his robes that dwelled by his sides. The Indian boy, gasping for life, was now on the ground and begging for help.

His tribe was dead, he was weak and he didn't want to feel the power of the redcoats ruling him before his death. His redcoat leaders had whipped and lashed him when he did everything well and everything bad. What did they enjoy doing other than guarding their foolish man leader? As he felt the wind strike him another time, he saw the man leap from the tree and dash in the wind, keeping his balance perfect.

The man gorged over the fence that guarded his camp. He leapt from tree to tree that laid on the ground. The trees were angled down, smashing into the mud making a ramp. The man used his feet and he slid down the banks of the trees and then he felt the wind push him forward, but he did not fall. The man rushed to the Indian boy and he grasped him by his arm.

Scooping him up, he leapt up the tree while the Indian boy yelped for mercy and from the pain of the world against him. Then with a roar of lightning and a strike of thuder, they raced out of the small camp, and all of it collasped, never to be seen again...

OOooOOooOOooOOoo

"Intok oory," snarled the man, as he walked forwards. The boy, who had once been in the stride of a terrible storm, was now inside of a home. The boy glared at him, before he felt pain in his right eye.

He looked at the man, noticing a dent in his eyehole. "Intok oory?" The man nodded, as he wheeled around to look outside to see anything going on. The boy lifted himself off of the cold burnt floor, before the boy realized that they were in a burnt home, with barely a roof over their heads and not much space to walk on. They were on the top layer of the home out of three stories, making the drop painful.

As the man peered outside of the burnt house, the boy turned around, seeing that a few Patriots were walking up the road with their pistols and their rifles in their childish grip. Snarling with dispair, the boy turned to the man in the brown coat, before he tried to see what the man was looking at. The man noticed the boy and he shoved the boy back, muttering something underneath his breath.

The boy gave him a tame look of hatred as he walked between the narrow burnt wooden floor, watching his balance as he stepped around the area. The man then grabbed the lining of the window and he stepped out on a balcony with a potted plant on it. He eyed down, hearing mutters from people but he ignored them. The man turned to the boy.

After lifting up his large axe, the man kicked some ash down the three story plummet as he stared the young boy right in the eye. "Speak English?" he asked the boy. The boy nodded, and then the man gave a brief smile. "Good, because no one here speaks our language." The boy saw the man's wounds and he jumped up.

"Your bisany!" he cried out, leaping. "Dary, your bisany... Is injured..." he trailed off, as he slumped onto the floor and he pointed to the wounds on the man's shoulders. The man eyed the wounds, and he turned back up. The boy seemed to have a greater worry for the wounds that he shared, even though it wasn't really his concern. The man stared him in the eye for a moment.

After they had a glaredown for a moment, the man turned around and he stalked up the long pipes inside of the burnt house. He crawled onto the scorched roof, and he looked at the area that he was in. Patriots walked down the streets, with their patrol teams all bundled up. Snorting, the man hopped back down the pipe to face the boy. "My wounds are fine, thanks," he growled, sitting down. "And now we need food. Anything you would like?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Sidaibyry, please," he murmured, looking at the man. "Do you have money on you?" The man turned to him.

"I can hunt, kid. Now start speaking a bit more English. Bari will get you no where in life. We need to go to a forest, but I can't leave you unattended for that lon-" he started but he was cut off by the boy.

"Stop calling me kid! I have a name! It's Dabyry Mony." The man glared at him, before he twisted around like he was about ready to hop out the window in search of a deer. "If you didn't understand, white man, it means Jaguar Bee."

The man twisted around, kicking Dabyry Mony over on the ground and he OOFED while he hit the ground. Dabyry Mony felt pain hit his head and he squealed with terror as the blood smashed his nogin. The man with his axe now raised to the boy growled. "I am not a white man, Mony!" Then, Dabyry growled underneath his breath.

The kid slammed into him, not causing the man to stumple back much. Pulling out a large Tomahawk, he pinned the kid down onto the ground. "My... name is... not... Bee..." Dabyry Mony said as he choked on his words. The man stared at him. "What's your... name?" His words were silk-like as he spoke. The man growled.

"Connor," he snarled, as he lifted up and he turned away. "Now I am going to go hunt, like it or not. Stay put or I guess you will get nothing to eat. And I won't bully any merchants to make you get fed if I find you on the streets." And with that, he leapt out of the window. Dabyry Mony raced over to the window, watching Connor as he dashed down the streets.

Dabyry Mony sat down, looking at the burnt house as he now longer was protected by Connor. As he felt himself sit down, the floor collasped, and he went falling down three stories and onto the floor. Gasping in horror, Dabyry Mony sat up, rubbing the back of his head. Some kids were walking on the streets, and Dabyry went to greet them.

The kids stopped, obviously surprised by the color of his skin. "What are you, an Indian?" Dabyry Mony nodded, as he walked over to the side with them. The three kids started bursting into laughter. "Well, where's your mommy then, little village boy?" Dabyry obviously had his feelings hurt, as he turned to climb back up the ridge, despite the little energy he had in his body after last night. However, the boys followed him.

Dabyry Mony hissed at them, as he started to scramble up the brick house which was blackened with ash. As he felt a ridge, he dug his long fingers into and he hauled himself up. But the kids would not stop their rude comments and they followed Dabyry Mony up the brick pillar and teased him a little more the closer they got to him.

One of the kids loosened a brick and tossed it at the climbing Indian boy. Lossing his balance, he tipped to the right side of his thin bean he had once been climbing on. He felt a sticking out brick and he clutched it for dear life. The red and white brick was now slipping, and blood was oozing out of his back. He dug the courage to pull himself up, but the boys had made it to him now.

Stepping on his fingers, Dabyry Mony cried out, as the kid twisted his large foot over the Indian's fingers. He let go of the brick, and then the kid stepped on the other hand. Slipping between the burnt land, he crumbled on the bricks, leaving scratches all over him. He did not have any enegry to stand up, and he felt blood leaking everywhere. His wounds started to ache. He felt the creases in his fingers slit and blood was gushing out of them. The kids were crawling their way down the broken brick wall to go get him.

Feeling his hand over one of the bricks that he was laying on Dabyry Mony grasped it, tossing it at the kid leading them down the brick wall. It thumped the kid right upside the hill, killing him almost immediately. Falling and hitting the dirt road on the other side, the body was flipped all over with broken bones. The kids on the brick wall gasped, before shrugging it off and started moving down the bricks.

Standing up with his best effort, he was now back on his two legs, but he had a fear that he might not of been there for too long before he got a real beating. Turning to flee, he started to limp his way across the remains of the scrorched house, but the kids were now off the wall and gaining on him. Then, hearing a cry behind him, Dabyry Mony twisted to see what had happened. Out of the random, Connor was gripping the kid with his massive fingers.

"_AHHH HELP!" _cried the kid, squirming. Connor blowed the kid in the jaw, before tossing him on the floor. The other boy stood there, stunned. Smashing his large leg into his lower theigh, the kid collasped with a face plant into the ground on the bricks and burnt wood. He then stood up, before dashing out. Connor turned to Dabyry Mony, who was looking at him with amazed and an astonished eye.

He pointed to the dead body, then back to Connor. "You beat up little kids for me..." he murmured, seeing that Connor was laying there in the dirt. "C-Connor? Are you some master killer or something?" Connor turned to face him.

"It is the 'or something' term. I am an Assassin. _Thee _Assassin. Trained to help against the redcoats and sometimes the Patriots. I work for a good order around here. Nothing better then doing something for pleading little prats like you!" snarled Connor, as he lifted his axe up. "And what were you doing, thinking about talking to those boys? Foolish child! Whites do not respect our race, and learn it well. Eat up." And with that Connor pushed to deer to him.

Dabyry Mony grabbed the deer, before he turned to Connor. "We have no where to rest anymore. Shall we look?" Connor nodded, and then he took a seat, before he pointed to the deer. "Looks good; you can have some if you would like to. Other than that, it will come to waste. I cannot eat it all." And with that, Dabyry Mony pulled out a tiny pocket knife that he hid in his leather and fur boots. Cutting open the meat, he saw Connor just watching the area, as he peered out of what was supposed to be the doorway.

The small Indian boy sat up, peering into some ash before he pulled out a almost annhilated book. Opening it up, he gazed into the pages and he turned them slightly, the must of the page leaving stains on his fingers. As he gazed down at the book for a few more seconds, Conner snatched it. Dabyry Mony scowled, as Connor scanned through the book. Connor eyed him for a minute, before leaving the book in the rubble beneath them.

After stepping outside of the small burnt shelter with bricks scattered all over the place, Connor then grabbed his bow in which he left hanging on the side of some charred bricks. He put his quiver over his shoulder and he started to slowly walk out of the abandoned scorched home. Dabyry Mony scurried after him, and turned his head to gaze through the door in which Connor left from.

Connor was now pacing through the streets, expecting Dabyry Mony to follow him. Would the small Indian boy follow him since being rude, or would he deal with it to survive in New York? Connor didn't know, but maybe he began to regret helping the louse. He cried, he got into trouble. He needed to learn to fend for himself.

Dabyry Mony was soon pounding after him, his weak legs and feet were strained to catch up with Connor. Dabyry Mony grew shocked when Connor shoved a woman who looked like a maid right out of his way. Connor did not apologize, just kept moving through the street. The Indian boy jumped over a merchanry cart, leaving some fruit and bottles of ale smashed beneath his leather boots.

The Merchant yelped, seeing all of the ale pour down his cart. He started to run up to Dabyry Mony, hollering something that Dabyry Mony did not know the language of. He sat there silently while the Merchant approached him. Twisting around hearing the angry cries of rage, he took off into the sheild of Connor. The Merchant was running now, desperate and trying to keep up with the boy.

Leaving a mess on the ground by tipping over someone's stand, it blocked the Merchant from passage. But the Merchant now only grew angry, along with the person inside of the stand. Two people in the past fivteen seconds were already onto him. The man in the stand pulled out a sword, and he started to dash after him, unlike the slow, drunk merchant.

"Connor!" he cried. "Connor, they're onto me!" Hearing the familiar shout, Connor twisted around, his robes flying behind him. He started to fast walk over to the Merchant, before he pushed the Merchant right out of the way. Connor knew he could do something, but he didn't want to risk getting on a Nobility I stage. The Merchant swirled to Connor.

The man with the sword was still chasing after Dabyry Mony, intil the small boy was forced to climb up a ladder that was on the side of a building. However, three Patriots were up there, before they eyed the boy. "Down, now!" the tallest one shouted, raising his musket to the boy. Dabyry Mony suddenly stopped, seeing the gun. He was locked into place. "Don't make me tell you again, boy! Down!"

Two of the men nodded, and then did the tallest. "Very well!" schreeched the shorted one, and the fattest one, not to mention. All three of them, with muskets raised, walked to him. Out of no where, Connor leapt up. "Not another one!" Connor rose his axe, before chopping into one's head. The men fell down to the ground. The other two approched, but Connor rolled and he stabbed one in the back with the Hidden Blade.

The remaining man thrusted forward, stabbing Connor in the chest, but feeling like it took no affect, Connor leapt up, stabbing the man in the chest, then diced him with the Hidden Blade. Dabyry Mony had his bottom jaw gaping in such shock. Connor stood there, gazing at the ground ahead of him, before the Hidden Blade went back into it's sheath in Connor's sleeves.

"When will you stay out of trouble?" roared Connor, pushing the Indian boy onto his back. Dabyry Mony felt fear swirl into every inch of his body. Connor, he now knew, was a beast. A killer. A murderer. Dabyry Mony was now scrambling backwards, like he was praying to his Gods for life. "What are you doing?" asked Connor, stepping forward.

He was only pushed away by Dabyry Mony. "St-stay back! I don't w-want any trouble!" he cried, and Conner must of been stunned by that, because he wadled backwards a bit. "Y-you're a killer! I would of got off the ro-roof. I didn't need your help!" And with that Dabyry Mony attempted to stand up, but the words had angered Conner to the point of rage. Scooping him up the the collar of his leather skins, Conner hissed with dissaproval.

Dabyry Mony then again realized what he was dealing with. He could not beat the Assassin, in any way, shape, or form. He didn't even know if this man could be injured or not. He seemed like a brute to tower of the rest of the people here. Like he was the King of the Englands, ruling all because of the power he owned. Dabyry Mony started to rench around, before he was lifted off the air and slammed into a small room ontop of the roof.

"I did what I could to help you! You are such an arrogant child! If I hadn't cared about your survival, I would have left you to die to those Merchants, let these Patriots slaughter you, left you in that storm!" Conner bellowed, making the small Indian boy whimper from the scolding. "And now, after wasting my energy to feed you, helping you from those bullies, these is how you repay me!?" And with that, Conner slammed him, right into the ground. _Hard. _

Dabyry Mony felt the blow, and he instantly was knocked out. The world started to fade black all around. And he felt his bones start to turn rusty and cold. The words had filled his eardrums, and he felt a shiver of fear rumble up his spine. Everything was starting to fade into the echos. Lost forever in his world. Condemned to die in the tragedy of messing with someone who was not lying. He had wasted his energy for the boy to live. What was he left to do with a lost soul?

OOooOOooOOooOOoo

Dabyry Mony shot up, looking around. He had been on the roof, where he had hit the ground. Blood was on the back of his head, and he was sore. Night had come, and the crickets were chirping. Everyone was not walking around, but sleeping in their homes. Dabyry Mony felt shivers of the cold wind against his thin leather skins. _Connor, _he thought, looking around.

But the Assassin was no where to be found.

The boy stood up rubbing the back of his head. The Assassin had left nothing for him, not a trace of where he might be. The boy was lucky. He had lived that blow to the head, when most would have been killed in a few hours of sleep. He started to move back down the ladders that had led him to the roof. He saw nothing on the streets. Merchants were guarding their carts, and some Patriots walked on the streets. Nothing else.

The sound of a slight rain trickle was heard among the people who were still on the roads of New York. His shelter was gone, and so was Connor. He did not have money to buy food, and he did not know how to hunt. He could not build a shelter, and he could not cut down trees. And he could not find a stream and then know the way back to New York. Conner had, no, _was _saving his life, and the boy did not realize until he was gone.

A quick pain of guilt stabbed him in the back for being rude to the Assassin when he had protected him. But now, even if he was a miserable boy, no one would help the boy, mostly because he was Indian and Merchants were too greedy sometimes. Nothing was going the way it should have. If Connor had not found him in that storm, he would of been dead with the rest of his tribe. Not a good time.

As he walked throughout the streets, he realized that he needed to cover up his eye. The right socket was avaliable for anything that wanted to crawl in. Striping off a piece of his leather skins, he wrapped it around his head, and he started to try and trace any remains of Connor.

His stomache had now growled, leaving a terrible bit of pain up his sides. He thrusted his head backwards, and he cried for his life, to die in the streets of the haters. "Connor! Help me!" he screamed. But there was no sound. No reply, no Connor leaping from the trees. Just the silence and the Merchants giggling at him. He cried silently, before he knew he needed somewhere to rest the night. He crawled on the cobblestone streets, with his scratches that the bricks had given him.

He moved his way through the streets, wishing that he had actually managed to get to a shelter. Anything right now would work. He did not have much enegry, but maybe he could go to area where New York was bombed, and he could find a burnt house and sleepthere for the night. As he slumped with pain peircing his sides, he looked at some Merchants, who were pointing and chuckling at him.

Dabyry Mony sniffed that air, and the smell of warm cinnabons filled the streets with delight. It made the tip of his tummy twitch, and he got off his hands and knees and he started to walk towards the place known as Kathy's Kafes. It was a few buildings down from the General Store, where Connor bought his weapons and his outfits. The Indian boy crawled into the store.

It smelled even better in here then the delightful smells on the streets of New York did. He managed to wiggle his way to the front of a short line. A girl, one a bit younger then Connor, then the looks of it, was standing behind the counter with money in her hand. Dabyry Mony turned his head, seeing an employee walking into the back area. Must of been where they made the cinnabons.

"Well, hey there, little boy. I'm Kathy, the owner. Haven't seen ye round here, who are ya?" she asked, with a smile of beauty planted on her face. Dabyry Mony stared at her, not knowing how to answer.

He walked closer to the counter, and he cleared his throat. "Dabyry Mony, Ma'am." The lady, "Kathy" at the counter giggled for a second. "Is there something wrong, Ma'am?" he asked, as he took another step forward to the counter. Some people, who had gotten into line when he approached, were laughing a bit as well. He twisted his head to those people, before he went back to Kathy.

"Oh, I don't know one soul who's last name is Mony here, boy. Orphaned and chose your own name? Understandable, seeing that you have the skin color of an Indian. Well, Indian color skin or not, your welcome here. What is it ye would like from me?" she offered, but that ticked off Dabyry Mony.

"I _am _an Indian, thank you. And I am NOT orphaned, my village just happened to go through a terrible storm two nights ago and my mother died, and my father died of a war with the redcoats, so if I were you, Ma'am, I'd shut my mouth. And I did _NOT _name myself! It's an Indian launguage and it means Jaguar Bee!" Dabyry Mony schreeched, and this shocked some people.

As he said this, a tall man, with robes dangling by his side pushed the door open, and shoved everyone out of his way in the line. He turned his head like stones to Dabyry Mony. _Connor! _thought Dabyry Mony, with a smile. Kathy was stunned, seeing that the tall man turned his head to her. Connor approached the counter, his eyes as flat as a whole mile of plains.

Kathy eyed the boy, before she waved her arms in there, telling him to get out of the shop. She opened up the gated area that led behind the counter, and started shoving Dabyry Mony out of the door. Connor stepped infront of her, pushing her out of the way and rose his axe. Dabyry Mony was stunned, seeing Connor guard him after what happened a few hours earlier.

Connor pushed the lady against the counter, and some people started to run out. Everyone but Dabyry Mony. Conner hissed in her face, but his hood shaded his face, only revealing his peircing eyes. "Stop picking on this kid," he growled. "Or I will murder you, here, now!" This caused her to wince away. He shoved her into the counter, and he swirled around.

"Help!" she screamed, the sound peircing the two Indians' ears. Conner shot around and tossed her over the counter. She landed with a thump. And with that, Connor and the Indian boy Dabyry Mony raced out of the shop, with some cinnabons with them. Kathy was heard still screaming through the sound of the shop. Connor felt rain pouring down on his head, and he snarled, before he whistled.

Dabyry Mony sat there for a moment, wondering what the whistle meant. Was he really trying to act like one of those folks, when they did something wrong whistled? _Really? _He was about to say it was obvious he did something wrong, when he heard hooves against the cobblestone. He twisted his head the other way, when Connor was looking at something.

A reddish-brown horse with a cream colored rump and brown spots scattered in the cream area started to trot his way over. He was a muscular horse, with power in each leg and a dark, sinister look in his eye. "Chocolate Spot, here!" Connor called, and the horse started to gallop forward. Connor walked onto the left side of the horse, and he stuck his left leg into the left stirrup. He lifted his leg over the saddle and put his right leg into the other stirrup. "Come on!"

Dabyry Mony was now crawling onto the horse from the right side. "Heeyah!" cried Connor, and the horse reared. Dabyry Mony almost lost his balance. He thumped his back against Connor's chest, and Connor glared down at him. The horse then took off to a spur, and he was flying like the wind. Dabyry Mony grabbed the horn of the saddle to stay onto the racing horse. Connor held the reins.

"We need to get to the Frontier!" called Connor, as he pulled the reins to his right pocket, steering the horse to the right down a narrow alley. The rain started to pick up speed, and he snorted with signifigence. As he pulled down the alleyway, he saw the county life and forests start to fill before him. He raced through the open area and into the Frontier.

They paddled down into a tiny area with a trickling stream. Connor sighed, as he started to back away into a cave that he had once killed a bobcat in. "This is all the shelter that we have right now. Let's get to bed before we find anything crawling in here." A he said that, they snacked on their cinnabons, then they curled up to sleep.

As Dabyry Mony peered into the open air, he saw things against the walls of the caves. They looked the pictures, but they were glowing! They were fades of light, coming from the walls of the cave. But now, he needed to sleep. More then anything. And with that, the world faded before him.

**Enjoying the first chapter to my wonderful new series, Lost In The Echo? It is based off the song that Linkin' Park had sung, and it's called Lost In The Echo. I thought it was a nice name to fit this story tight. Well, if you like what's going on so far in Connor and Dabyry Mony's first meetings and adventures, like and review! I hope you want me to countinue this monument!**


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